


Your Letters

by cannonball



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Love Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cannonball/pseuds/cannonball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One particularly night, Zayn decides to reread all the letters Harry had sent him throughout their years apart. It brings back all kinds of feelings and Zayn doesn't think he's strong enough for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Letters

The worst thing I could've done was listen to that classic Etta James song while rereading the letters you've sent me ages ago. All stacked into the shoebox I had kept hidden in my closet, away from my line of vision, they represented all the good things in my life. They reminded me that at some point in time, everything had been perfect and balanced. Time flies by quickly when you're in love and the future seems to stretch on forever. The infinity sign inked on my wrist says so and so does yours. I wonder if it's still there or if you've covered it up like I've thought of doing many times. It's hard to think of you without feeling my heart tighten. I don't want to admit that I miss you. I want to convince myself that I'm better off. That you've only poisoned the blood that courses through my veins. That you didn't fight enough for me because if you did you'd still be here. Your green eyes, so sparkly and so gentle had pulled me in, lured me into your arms, where I'd lay day and night as the world stopped around us. 

Etta James' soft, melodic voice held strong emotions and each word ripped through me, sending a flood of nostalgic memories to drown me and leave me bare. Nothing but good memories remained, because when you left, you took all the bad ones with you. You loved me enough to leave me with all the good stories and moments we shared. I wonder if you remember that time we went on the Ferris Wheel and how frightened I was. Do you remember? Do you hold any of our memories with delicacy like I do? The Wheel had stopped spinning when we got to the top and I had closed my eyes shut, too afraid to look down. Your fingers had brushed my face, encouraging me to open my eyes and when I did, I lost my breath. And not because the purple hues of the amusment ride's lights casted a luminous glow onto the side of your face or because your eyes held a moisture that came from the happiest part of your being. You held it with such confidence and love that I didn't wait for you to pop the question. I yelled 'yes' and fireworks boomed across the park. I still don't know how you did it. How you managed to do all that in one night. It was the best proposal a boy could ever ask for. I go to bed and dream about it sometimes, waking up in my own tears. You're the best thing that ever happened to me and you've never truly grasped that. I would've done anything for you; absolutely anything. 

You inspired me, you know? I've repeated over and over again how much I loved your paintings and drawings and you probably got tired of hearing it at one point, but just know that I've meant every single word. Your paintings described emotions, memories and dreams. You were able to reach into someone's subconscious and make them realize something they hadn't noticed but had been feeling. You made me realize how much I loved you. You would take one glance at me and smirk because you read it before I knew it. You knew how deep my love for you was before I could even admit it to myself. I would sit in the corner of your studio and watch you go at it. The streaks of blues and greens intertwined into each other, created something beautiful, something new and something that spoke to my soul. I didn't distract you or make you lose focus. You always told me I kept you grounded and you did too, for me. That's why I sent your portfolio to that agency. You got mad at me and told me to never invade your privacy ever again. Remember that? I cried when you gave me the silent treatment for a whole month. You were good at that. You were good at making me feel like shit when you wanted to. You had no idea how much it hurt to see you walk around the house and pass by me as if I wasn't there. I craved your attentiona and soothing words more than anything, but I gave you your space. I patiently waited for a response from the agency because I had so much faith in you. And I got it. You got accepted. They accepted you and you made it far. I still attend some of your gallery openings but I never see you there. I make sure to go to the ones you don't attend because you're a chapter in my life that had come and went. There's no more space to fill in more words and I'm okay with that. I still look at your paintings and see that your love for me hasn't died. It reassures me. I like knowing that you think about me just as much as I think about you.

The letters got less and less detailed with time, almost as if your muse was no longer there or rarely showed up anymore. Was I your muse? Was I the reason why you stopped signing your name with a little heart beside it at the bottom? What happened to you mentioning the three special words almost a thousand times in your letters? I should've known it wasn't going to last. Long distance relatioships never last. That's what everyone told us. Well, at least they tried. I don't blame you. It's hard for the both of us. We dreamed and believed that our love was stronger than anything else. Stronger than time. I can't defeat time and the same goes for you. We can't do that unless we're together and we're not. You know, it took me the longest time to accept the fact that you weren't coming back. I was afraid of hanging up when we spoke on the phone and I held onto everything that was yours for many years. When excuses such as 'I'm going to be working late so I can't call you' or 'my parents are coming over so the video chat will have to be for another time' started to appear, my heart leaped out of my chest and hit the ground, the impact shattering it to bits. I know you loved me and you probably still do, because I don't think I could ever stop loving you either but were you as terrified as I? Did you cry yourself to sleep the first few months? I slept with your pillow, the one you forgot to take back when you slept over at my place for the first time years ago. I kept it but made the mistake of washing it one day. I washed it because I was going to return it to you and I guess I forgot. But it doesn't smell like you anymore. It smells like me. But it's yours. And that's what matters most. I have a piece of you; a tiny one, but a piece nevertheless. 

My cup of tea had gone cold by the time there was only one letter remaining. Your last letter. I've read that letter the most and tried many times to puzzle the reason behind it being the last letter. I've tried reading between the lines, but you yourself had always been a straightforward person. I've thought of setting the letter on fire and watch it disppear in ashes, along with all our memories and the strong love that had once been impenetrable. When no more letters came forward, I cried. I hated you so much. You promised you'd never let me go. But you did. I broke the charm bracelet you gave on our first anniversary that night. I never forgave myself for it because a part of you left me at that moment and it was worse than never reaceiving another letter. There was no mention of a new love. You still loved me with every fiber in your being. As I reread the last letter, I didn't try to find the true meaning behind it. I didn't try to understand why you stopped writing me letters. I smiled at the end because I wasn't going to look back on the memories with bitterness. I was grateful for you, I'm still grateful. You saved my life. You made it worthwhile because you loved me more than a person is supposed to love. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, just know that there isn't a second where I'm not thinking about you. Thank you for your letters.

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever story on AO3! Please tell me what you think. I had fun writing this and Zarry is my OTP, they're just perfect and I've been wanting to write about them so I finally gave it a shot :)
> 
> [Update]  
> I just realized I kind of switched their roles. I had wanted Harry to be the narrator but it's Zayn instead. It still works so I think I'll just keep it that way.


End file.
